


Challenges We're Facing: Alternate

by oncetherelivedaboy



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex is a trans man, Challenges We're Facing, M/M, sensible mpreg, tw: miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-11 19:25:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7904692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncetherelivedaboy/pseuds/oncetherelivedaboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was one of the paths I had contemplated going down for Challenges We're Facing, really glad I didn't because it would have been terrible. This is sad, and I wanted to cry while writing it so I'm sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Challenges We're Facing: Alternate

He can’t sleep, and he wishes he’d have taken a nap earlier in the day, the baby had let up a bit on the kicking. His back hurt now and he was doing his best to get comfortable, at a little under 6 months along his abdomen was quite visible. He flipped over again, facing away from John, tucking the pillow back between his knees, groaning when it once again offered little to no relief. 

“You doing ok?” John asked, voice still groggy with sleep, the lucky one.

“Back hurts, can’t sleep.” He muttered and felt the bed shift as John moved closer, hands working gently over his shoulders. “Lower back.” Alex added and John’s hands moved, thumbs pressing gently into the base of his spine, lips pressed to the back of his neck. 

“Is that better?” Alex nodded. “You want me to go get the heating pad.”

“No, you’re hands are fine right now. If this whole nursing thing doesn’t work you could work wonders on the human spine.” John chuckles.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Alex falls asleep with John’s fingers working at his back. 

It’s still dark when he wakes up, and he wonders for a moment what woke him. Normally if he woke up at a strange hour it was because of the baby kicking, or Frances trying to crawl into bed with them after a nightmare. There was no movement in his abdomen, just a sort of tightness, and what feels like cramps. He sits up, hand on his stomach, a dampness at the seat of his pants evident, and he sighs. It's more annoyance at himself than anything else, can’t even control basic functions these days anymore. He leans over to shake John’s shoulder, and he wakes with ease. 

“Something wrong?” 

“No, still kind of hurting, but that’s not why I woke you up.” He sighs as he stands, the pain a bit sharper. “Help me change the sheets.” It took a moment but John got up as well, seeming to understand immediately. 

“Go take a shower, I’ll take care of the sheets.” He says, not a hint of annoyance in his voice. 

“I’ll help, then I’ll shower.” The cramps are slowly getting worse. 

“Alex, it’s just sheets, I can take care of it.” He reached over to turn on the light on the nightstand. Alex already heading towards the bathroom and he hears the blankets being pulled back. 

“Shit.” The word is more of a breath, and Alex turns to see what John is looking at, a bright splotch of red on the sheets, glances down to see it darkening his pajama pants. John’s already grabbed the phone, but Alex can barely hear the words over the blood rushing in his ears. John’s following him into the bathroom, grabbing a set of clean clothes. He strips inside of the shower, red streaking down his legs, and John wraps him up in a towel. Alex’s legs shaking as he gets redressed, a pad in the underwear, he’s still bleeding, it won’t stop bleeding.

“Laf’s gonna be in here in like 2 minutes, and Hercules is gonna stay with Frances, we’re going to the hospital, ok?” Alex nods, and wraps his arms around John, who kisses his head and rubs his back. He’s scared, terrified for the baby more than himself. John helps him down the stairs, and Lafayette walks in with Hercules as they reach the bottom stair. 

They’re in the car within seconds, Lafayette driving, Alex pressed close to John in the back, and John on the phone with the hospital. Alex has a hand pressed over his abdomen. “Please be ok.” He says and John’s arm tightens around him slightly, offering what comfort he can. 

Alex and Lafayette sit in the waiting room while John speaks to the nurse in the front. He comes back to join them, Alex’s head on his shoulder, lips against his warm forehead, there’s a bit of a fever, and he’s scared, though he can barely imagine how Alex is feeling. His hand is resting at the bottom of his abdomen, thumb rubbing over it slowly, and John places his hand on top of Alex’s, there is no movement beneath his fingers. 

They’re called back and Lafayette agrees to wait in the waiting room, a nurse brings a wheelchair for Alex. They’re taken to a room with an ultrasound, and the nurse asks about specific symptoms, her face stern, but John can see the concern in her eyes. He knows the symptoms, knows what is the likely cause and the nurse sighs lightly. The doctor comes in, takes the chart from the nurse, and smiles at them before turning her attention to the chart, her own face falls as she reads out the chart, but she clears her throat.

“We’re going to check to make sure we aren’t missing anything, but all symptoms correspond with a late miscarriage.” The word hangs in the air for a long time, and Alex’s hand squeezes tighter around John’s. She has him lift up his shirt and ease the pants down slightly. Alex tenses when the cool gel hits his skin.

There is no movement on the screen except for when the doctor moves the wand, the heartbeat Alex had clung to weeks prior was gone. John takes his eyes from the screen to look at Alex, he’s holding back tears, his mouth in a sharp line. The doctor confirms it, asks if they need a bit of time before they discuss what to do now and John nods. The nurse hands them a few pamphlets, John’s hands shaking as he takes them. 

The door closes, and Alex’s eyes shut, body shaking with quiet sobs, hands coming up to cover his face. John’s arms go around him, tears in his own eyes, Alex barely moving apart from shaking, his face buried in John’s shirt. There are no words, just quiet, muffled sobs, and tears staining each others clothes. 

“It’s my fault.” John shakes his head, lips pressed to his head. 

“Alex, don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare.” He says. “This shit happens, and there’s no real reason, shit just doesn’t work out. I promise, this never was and never will be your fault, this just happens.”

“It just happens?” It’s a mix of tears and anger. 

“Yeah, it's fucked up and it’s senseless and it fucking hurts, but it happens, and it’s not your fault.”

Alex wants to curl up under a blanket and cry until there’s nothing left, until his sobs are dry and his throat burns. He wants John to hold him and never let go, and he wants to hold his baby, only it’s dead, and he’ll never get to, will never get to see them grow up. They will never sleep in the little side crib he wanted for the bed, or the bassinet that Laf had been telling him about. They’ll never be older than they are now. 

“Laf’s gonna be pissed.” Alex manages, and John’s noise isn’t quite a laugh, but it’s better than the silence. 

The doctor returns, her features soft as she sits on the stool. The nurse behind her, holding another stack of pamphlets. There truly is a pamphlet for everything. 

“We believe you’re already in the early stages of labor, we can get you a room and put you up there until it’s time, we’ll have nurses and a midwife in and out to make sure you’re alright, and monitor your vitals, we can even get a psychiatrist if that would help. If you want to go home for now that works as well, you’ve still got a few hours until you’d have to be here.” 

“I really just want to go home.” He says, his voice raspy and nasally, and the doctor nods. 

“We’ll make sure there’s a spot for you guys when you do come back ok? We’ll try to get this taken care of as smooth as possible.” Alex nods. 

He’s helped back into the wheelchair, gripping John’s hand as they go back to where Laf is waiting. His face falls the minute he catches Alex’s expression and he’s rushing over, speaking quick french, and John doesn’t understand a word but Alex seems to, and he nods, tears glistening back in his eyes. He’s still going on, trying to comfort him, but there’s little he can do. 

The drive back is quiet, silent tears still streaking down Alex’s face, and when they get back it’s still dark. He doesn’t even bother going up to the bedroom, just wraps himself in a blanket and lies down on the couch. John gets the heating pad, wrapping it around his lower back, though Alex is barely registering the pain at this point. John stays up, cleans the bedroom and bathroom and joins Alex on the couch, sits so Alex’s head can rest in his lap, fingers playing through the still slightly damp hair. Lafayette passes out on the floor in front of the couch.

* * *

 

It's the middle of the day when it’s time to go back to the hospital, Hercules had taken Frances to school that morning and she’d kissed Alex’s cheek before lea ving, telling him she hoped he felt better soon so they could play later.

He’s sweaty and panting when it's done, and he doesn’t see the baby, doesn’t see what might have been his son or daughter. It all feels like a dream and Alex hopes it is, hopes he’ll wake-up because someone was kicking at his insides, he doesn’t. He’s lying there, wishing he’d decided to take all the drugs they’d offered earlier. John is asleep, he’d conked out in the chair after, had been able to see the baby. 

“Was it a boy or a girl?” He asks the psychiatrist that had been sitting in there with him for sometime.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“Please, just tell me.” He sighs, and answers.

“A little boy.” Alex breathes out slowly, eyes closing again.

“It’s not fair.” And the man nods. 

“In life things rarely are.” It goes quiet for a long time and the psychiatrist stands, heading for the door. “If you need me just ask one of the nurses to fetch me.” 

“Wait.” He says, fidgeting with his hands. “I just want to hold him, before he’s gone for good.” The man nods. 

“I’ll have it arranged.” The tears are prickling in his eyes again, sliding down his face. 

John is awake as a doctor holds the swaddled little bundle, too small to seem real. Alex doesn’t say a word, just watches as if at any moment he’ll open his eyes, or his hand will move. He doesn’t, there’s nothing remarkable about it. Alex holds him, a hand at the back of his head, his skin cold.

“Did you have a name picked out?” The man asks and Alex nods, there's just a touch of hair on his head, dark and curly.

“Philip.” John is sitting next to him on the hospital bed, an arm wrapped around Alex. They take him back too soon, and they both know it’ll be the last time they see him. 

When he’s released from the hospital they give him guidelines, suggest shrinks, tell him he’s allowed to do this and not allowed to do that. He doesn’t care. He gets home and he changes and he climbs in bed and he stares at the notebook he’d been filling out, and he falls asleep, praying when he wakes up none of it is real. 

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I'm sorry.  
> Tumblr is oncetherelivedaboy.tumblr.com if you want to yell at me about this or request somethings happier.


End file.
